[the courier deliveries take a bit of time in the evenings, but Jin Guangyao appreciates the chance to be active and stretch his legs after a day spent at the moot hall. (or, as it happens, snooping on some interesting conversations via the network.) he lets himself into the apothecary, empty box held under one arm, and calls out a polite,]
Quentin?
[to announce himself. he carries the remaining supplies further into the shop and sets them down on the counter, proceeding to sort the materials that can be shelved to be sold again tomorrow from those that will need to be disposed of.]
[ Usually, at this time of day, Jin Guangyao is the only person he expects to come in. With the rash of kholzaviridae cases, though, clients have been coming in later and staying longer. Quentin is just bustling around cleaning up after the last person to leave, scrubbing up a dribble of blood from the consulting table with a cleaner that has enough lavender in it to clear out anyone's nose.
[ He spares a glance up when he hears his name, lopsided grin loose when he sees who it comes from. ]
A-Yao. No one sneezed on you today? You look clean.
[a mild huff of laughter while he keeps sorting the remaining materials, though he does look up from his task long enough to spot that grin and offer a closed-mouth little smile in response.]
Not today, thankfully. Most households I visited were only too pleased to quickly take their parcels and then retreat back indoors.
[setting the last of the remaining supplies back inside a cabinet, Jin Guangyao folds his hands neatly in front of himself and crosses over to Quentin--though his nose does wrinkle discreetly at the strong lavender aroma. he doesn't remark upon it, instead offering,] May I assist with anything else? [in a tone of voice that would be the very image of courteous solicitude, if it weren't for his restrained, but nevertheless coy, little smirk. beneath that, though, there's a touch of concern in his eyes; he's got something else on his mind, and is waiting for the right moment to broach the subject.]
The kholza tea in the big teapot. [ He takes a break to nod towards the hearth. ] It needs to be drained...the last leaves scraped out and set up to dry for tomorrow. It shouldn't be too full. Oh--put on the kettle? I'm not gonna make it through the night without another go around on tea.
[ He'd need to do those last little chores, but with Jin Guangyao making the assist, Quentin can focus on finishing his clean-up and pouring out the waste water, locking up the front door, and getting the out-of-sight workbench near the fireplace a little semi-organized. It's not something a trainee could drop into; a seasoned professional might even have trouble discerning his haphazard system. But until Merta is back on her feet, it will have to do. ]
Your boy's at it with the big talk today. [ Drawled as Quentin drifts toward the fireplace to sit down at last, massaging a less aromatic oil into his hands to soothe the dryness left from washing. ] Grady, I mean. Did you hear him going on?
I will take care of it, [Jin Guangyao tells him with confidence, indulges himself by very briefly resting his hand on Quentin's forearm, and then moves efficiently to see to the kholza tea pot--and the ordinary kettle, of course, though this is not his preferred means of making tea.
still, he's learned quickly how Quentin prefers to take his tea, which means that by the time his friend has eased himself down into his seat by the fireplace, Jin Guangyao comes to sit by his side with a cup already prepared exactly to his liking. he offers it out with a little inclination of his head, and only the gentlest of reproachful looks when Quentin mentions 'his boy.']
I did speak to him, [he admits before taking a sip from his own tea, lashes lowered.] One cannot fault him for being concerned.
No, but one could fault him for kicking a hornet's nest, for sure. Or for putting his whole ass out there for everyone to kick.
[ He nods gratefully for the warm cup, and he's careful, but he's serious about this. Grady has already been enough of a pain, as far as he's concerned. ]
We've been around this block. We're seeing the exact same thing now.
[perhaps predictably, Jin Guangyao says nothing else about Grady, either in his defence or to criticize him. he suspects Quentin knows more or less where he stands on the subject of Grady anyway, and right now he has no desire to pick an argument with someone he cares for about someone else he also cares for--not when Quentin has just provided him with the perfect avenue to raise a more important concern anyway.]
Quentin, [he begins again, eyes lifting from his tea to consider his friend's serious expression. he allows his own to grow more open, artless, to let Quentin see the worry in his eyes.] What did Junpei-gongzi mean about what happened before?
[ He's like to hear about Grady, would like to hear that Jin Guangyao talked sense into him. Would like to see him at Jin Guangyao's back like he used to be. Maybe someday--maybe once Quentin can keep the bristle out his voice when Grady comes up. Until then--well, he probably can't blame Jin Guangyao for dodging the subject.
[ The direction he dodge in gives Quentin some pause. What did happen? He frowns at the shaking surface of his tea, rests his wrist on his knee to relieve the minute tremble. ] Before...
Before, Zlatka-- [ Not the Duchess. ] --made a request, asking the Void-touched to go into the Void. Looking for her eyes. Basically, she said she lost them out there and hoped that in bringing them back, she could do...something. To help. Get us home, or--I dunno. Do better. Plenty of us went. Plenty of us went.
I stayed, Junpei stayed...we were working together at the clinic at the time. She put up--mmm. [ He pauses to think about the phrasing here, the things he learned, while taking a drink. ] ...She was silent while the Rubean natives started punishing those of us who stayed. They were--attacking us in the street. Forcing us into cages. People were--people were--horribly raped. Forced to rape. After all of that, we ended up tricked into the Void anyway, just--toppled into it through mirrors and wells and--I dunno totally how we got there.
[ It doesn't get to the heart of Junpei's concerns, but it gets to the heart of Quentin's, anyway. He sighs out long, bouncing his knee. ] The fact that Zlatka said something to him directly--at least she's not ignoring it. Maybe she won't ignore it when her people retaliate.
[whatever Jin Guangyao was expecting to hear, this certainly was not it. Quentin does not need to address the heart of Junpei's concerns for Jin Guangyao to hear the general shape of them, and he does not press for more details; if Quentin wished to share those with him, he would do so in his own time. wordless for a moment, he reaches out again to touch Quentin's arm, a silent expression of comfort. his own expression is one of aching unhappiness at hearing about how he suffered.]
I'm sorry. [said quietly and with sincerity. whatever else he has to say, he wishes that much to be known first.]
[ Quentin's hand slides over his assuringly, not softness in his eyes while he assures: ] I'm fine. I was lucky. People protected me.
But I can't sit back and watch people stroll into the same situation when my friends-- [ Still sharp, his eyes well up quick. Lips pursed, he ducks his head and pulls his hand back after a fierce squeeze. ] I dunno how much I can stop, but. I have to say something.
[he withdraws his hand after a moment or two, though not without delivering a gentle squeeze to Quentin's forearm. another sip from his tea, eyes veiled from view by his lowered eyelashes.]
You are worried that those who don't volunteer to have their hearts cut out will be punished for it, if not by the Duchess, [a pragmatic use of her title, rather than one conveying any real sense of honour or reverence,] then by the Rubeans. Or, perhaps, [and this he ventures far more cautiously,] by some of our fellow Void-touched?
That, or worse. But not--not the Void-touched. [ A frowning beat, and he emphasizes: ] Look, I know it sounds naive, but outside of absolute freak intervention like what happened with Murphy, I don't think we'd turn on each other.
[ In the second of quiet after, Quentin's knee starts to bounce, a plain involuntary indicator of how quickly his mind is racing ahead of this conversation. He jumps too far forward. ] I know when I tell people that no one hurt me over the All-Sight, they say it was because John was there. But he wasn't happy with what I did either. He could have stopped me any time, I gave him chance after chance and--and he didn't. No one did.
[ His mouth drops open when he realizes how far he's gone. Quentin rewinds with one hands, gives an absolutely flippant explanation. ]
When we went looking for her eyes--the All-Sight--I was the one that found it. To keep it safe while we decided what to with it--give it to her, use it to negotiate, just fuckin break it--I asked John Gaius to put it inside me. It was like, um. It was a mirror. It fit right here, [ Knuckles skim the left side of his chest. ] once he took a lung out.
[he has indeed gone too far forward, and Jin Guangyao frowns as he tries to keep up with what he is hearing, filing away details in the rolodex of his memory to return to later, once he has additional context. the details he hears about John don't register more than a subtle drawing together of his eyebrows, his eyes tracking the movement of Quentin's hand to where he places it against his chest.]
A mirror? [he repeats, eyes widening.] In place of your lung?
So that...if someone wanted to move against the majority of Void-touched, they'd have to really commit. They couldn't just whisk it away. It would have to be a decision.
[he decides to put a pin in the whole 'did you get your lung back' discussion, which seems less important than the direction the conversation is currently taking. but Jin Guangyao thinks he is seeing a more complete picture of what has Junpei so worried.]
That was a terrible risk for you to take, [he says quietly.] What if someone had chosen to 'commit,' as you say? What if someone had tried to take it from you by force?
[he looks truly aghast--perhaps he just hasn't been here long enough to become as inured to the possibility of death, or perhaps it is just some part of his fundamental nature that makes him recoil from the thought. or maybe his vivid imagination is to blame, as it treats him to a grisly image of just how their neighbours might have sought to recover the Duchess's All-Sight from Quentin's body.
regardless, in one fluid motion he sets down his teacup and reaches out both hands to take hold of Quentin's. now it is his turn for his eyes to grow hard, though not from indifference--just the opposite. fiercely,]
That is not a lesson I ever wish for us to learn. [then, more softly,] Not with you. Not with anyone, if it can be helped. [okay, that part is a lie, he wouldn't get this upset over the prospect of a near stranger suffering this fate, but he would prefer for Quentin not to realize just how mercenary he can be with the lives of individual strangers. not yet, anyway.]
[ Jin Guanyao swells into his space, hands slim and strong and directing Quentin's attention to him, heart and body. He hasn't seen Jin Guangyao like this since that cold day out in the dirt and the ice. But that day had been tremendous. Quentin looks up to him guiltily, stitches his mouth shut to keep from insisting it's not that important. He's not that important.
[ He knows better though. Years of experience are behind him, assuring that there's nothing he can say that won't worry or disturb. Probably nothing he can say that will soothe, now that the seed of concern is planted--so he just tries to agree. ] Don't worry. That was enough diplomacy for me for a lifetime.
[oh, Quentin. Jin Guangyao is very good at this dance. he recognizes the shape of it, even if he doesn't know which steps are being omitted by Quentin's agreement. and he knows, too, that nothing good will come from calling him on it.
he lifts one hand to cradle his cheek and, smiling wistfully, says,]
Very well. I won't worry.
[as though to say 'see? you don't buy this shit either, do you?' but he doesn't push the issue beyond that.]
Junpei is overprotective. [ He reasons lowly, using his free hand to wrap around the back of Jin Guangyao's thighs. His knee spread as Quentin tugs him in. Don't be salty. ] And I'm grateful. He just worries too much. He doesn't know...he doesn't know how much a person can take and still bounce back.
[ He knows, to some degree, that Quentin has taken much worse. But Quentin doesn't know at all how badly he needs people to react like Junpei or Jin Guangyao to his stupid moves. He'll appreciate it later. For now, he presses his mouth lightly over Jin Guangyao's stomach, eyes him from below. ]
So...what's your take? Whattayou think about all this?
[he bends forward into Quentin's space like cattails in the breeze, the hand not touching Quentin's cheek moving to lightly rest on his shoulder. Jin Guangyao's eyebrows quirk a fraction of an inch higher at that response and justification, decidedly unconvinced, and then an additional fraction higher at that question. he smiles, closed-mouth and knowing, and lets his fingers glide into Quentin's hair.]
I think, [he begins softly, a bit coyly,] that Quentin-gongzi is trying to change the subject.
Do you like the subject we were on? [ A little too cheeky, maybe, hummed gently. He's more sincere when he goes on: ] I'm trying to get you to tell me what you think. You hear more than most of us, and...I like you. So I wanna know. What are you thinking?
[he rubs gentle, deliberate circles into common points of tension on Quentin's scalp, the pressure from his fingertips constant, sensitive. gradually, his little smile fades; he considers his words as he gazes down at the young man looking up at him through his eyelashes. there are risks to honesty, even here--perhaps especially here.]
I think that there are too many unknowns for me to know with any certainty what the right choice is. [it is one version of the truth, unvarnished, but declawed. Jin Guangyao's eyes soften.] But I know that I would not ask someone I claim to protect to cut out his heart for me.
[not unless he felt he had no other choice. which, perhaps, is precisely the circumstance the Duchess finds herself in now. but Jin Guangyao does not care about the Duchess's heart: he cares about Quentin's.]
[ The touch skating through his hair makes him feel heavy, covered. It's tempting to let the conversation slide away with it. With a sigh, Quentin's arms wind tighter around him, face buries against his stomach. ]
You would never lose your heart. [ A kiss below Jin Guangyao's navel before he unwinds and leans back in his seat. His hands draw long against to catch Jin Guangyao's. ] But I get your point. Just...don't let anyone bully you. Once you know what you think.
[Jin Guangyao allows his hands to be collected from Quentin's hair, laces their fingers together, and maintains the gentleness in his eyes. it isn't hard to do, looking down at Quentin's face; this man coaxes the compassion and tenderness from his heart in a fashion reminiscent of both Qin Su and Lan Xichen. he lifts one of Quentin's hands to kiss the angle of his wrist once, gently.]
Gongzi is very kind to worry, [another soft kiss across a blue vein,] but I will be fine.
[he considers Quentin through his eyelashes.] Does gongzi have any plans for tonight? [the unspoken suggestion being: Jin Guangyao could be plans. u know, just sayin.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action (the same evening as grady's network post)
Quentin?
[to announce himself. he carries the remaining supplies further into the shop and sets them down on the counter, proceeding to sort the materials that can be shelved to be sold again tomorrow from those that will need to be disposed of.]
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[ He spares a glance up when he hears his name, lopsided grin loose when he sees who it comes from. ]
A-Yao. No one sneezed on you today? You look clean.
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Not today, thankfully. Most households I visited were only too pleased to quickly take their parcels and then retreat back indoors.
[setting the last of the remaining supplies back inside a cabinet, Jin Guangyao folds his hands neatly in front of himself and crosses over to Quentin--though his nose does wrinkle discreetly at the strong lavender aroma. he doesn't remark upon it, instead offering,] May I assist with anything else? [in a tone of voice that would be the very image of courteous solicitude, if it weren't for his restrained, but nevertheless coy, little smirk. beneath that, though, there's a touch of concern in his eyes; he's got something else on his mind, and is waiting for the right moment to broach the subject.]
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[ He'd need to do those last little chores, but with Jin Guangyao making the assist, Quentin can focus on finishing his clean-up and pouring out the waste water, locking up the front door, and getting the out-of-sight workbench near the fireplace a little semi-organized. It's not something a trainee could drop into; a seasoned professional might even have trouble discerning his haphazard system. But until Merta is back on her feet, it will have to do. ]
Your boy's at it with the big talk today. [ Drawled as Quentin drifts toward the fireplace to sit down at last, massaging a less aromatic oil into his hands to soothe the dryness left from washing. ] Grady, I mean. Did you hear him going on?
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still, he's learned quickly how Quentin prefers to take his tea, which means that by the time his friend has eased himself down into his seat by the fireplace, Jin Guangyao comes to sit by his side with a cup already prepared exactly to his liking. he offers it out with a little inclination of his head, and only the gentlest of reproachful looks when Quentin mentions 'his boy.']
I did speak to him, [he admits before taking a sip from his own tea, lashes lowered.] One cannot fault him for being concerned.
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[ He nods gratefully for the warm cup, and he's careful, but he's serious about this. Grady has already been enough of a pain, as far as he's concerned. ]
We've been around this block. We're seeing the exact same thing now.
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Quentin, [he begins again, eyes lifting from his tea to consider his friend's serious expression. he allows his own to grow more open, artless, to let Quentin see the worry in his eyes.] What did Junpei-gongzi mean about what happened before?
cw: discussion of sexual violence
[ The direction he dodge in gives Quentin some pause. What did happen? He frowns at the shaking surface of his tea, rests his wrist on his knee to relieve the minute tremble. ] Before...
Before, Zlatka-- [ Not the Duchess. ] --made a request, asking the Void-touched to go into the Void. Looking for her eyes. Basically, she said she lost them out there and hoped that in bringing them back, she could do...something. To help. Get us home, or--I dunno. Do better. Plenty of us went. Plenty of us went.
I stayed, Junpei stayed...we were working together at the clinic at the time. She put up--mmm. [ He pauses to think about the phrasing here, the things he learned, while taking a drink. ] ...She was silent while the Rubean natives started punishing those of us who stayed. They were--attacking us in the street. Forcing us into cages. People were--people were--horribly raped. Forced to rape. After all of that, we ended up tricked into the Void anyway, just--toppled into it through mirrors and wells and--I dunno totally how we got there.
[ It doesn't get to the heart of Junpei's concerns, but it gets to the heart of Quentin's, anyway. He sighs out long, bouncing his knee. ] The fact that Zlatka said something to him directly--at least she's not ignoring it. Maybe she won't ignore it when her people retaliate.
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I'm sorry. [said quietly and with sincerity. whatever else he has to say, he wishes that much to be known first.]
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But I can't sit back and watch people stroll into the same situation when my friends-- [ Still sharp, his eyes well up quick. Lips pursed, he ducks his head and pulls his hand back after a fierce squeeze. ] I dunno how much I can stop, but. I have to say something.
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You are worried that those who don't volunteer to have their hearts cut out will be punished for it, if not by the Duchess, [a pragmatic use of her title, rather than one conveying any real sense of honour or reverence,] then by the Rubeans. Or, perhaps, [and this he ventures far more cautiously,] by some of our fellow Void-touched?
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[ In the second of quiet after, Quentin's knee starts to bounce, a plain involuntary indicator of how quickly his mind is racing ahead of this conversation. He jumps too far forward. ] I know when I tell people that no one hurt me over the All-Sight, they say it was because John was there. But he wasn't happy with what I did either. He could have stopped me any time, I gave him chance after chance and--and he didn't. No one did.
[ His mouth drops open when he realizes how far he's gone. Quentin rewinds with one hands, gives an absolutely flippant explanation. ]
When we went looking for her eyes--the All-Sight--I was the one that found it. To keep it safe while we decided what to with it--give it to her, use it to negotiate, just fuckin break it--I asked John Gaius to put it inside me. It was like, um. It was a mirror. It fit right here, [ Knuckles skim the left side of his chest. ] once he took a lung out.
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A mirror? [he repeats, eyes widening.] In place of your lung?
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That was a terrible risk for you to take, [he says quietly.] What if someone had chosen to 'commit,' as you say? What if someone had tried to take it from you by force?
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[he looks truly aghast--perhaps he just hasn't been here long enough to become as inured to the possibility of death, or perhaps it is just some part of his fundamental nature that makes him recoil from the thought. or maybe his vivid imagination is to blame, as it treats him to a grisly image of just how their neighbours might have sought to recover the Duchess's All-Sight from Quentin's body.
regardless, in one fluid motion he sets down his teacup and reaches out both hands to take hold of Quentin's. now it is his turn for his eyes to grow hard, though not from indifference--just the opposite. fiercely,]
That is not a lesson I ever wish for us to learn. [then, more softly,] Not with you. Not with anyone, if it can be helped. [okay, that part is a lie, he wouldn't get this upset over the prospect of a near stranger suffering this fate, but he would prefer for Quentin not to realize just how mercenary he can be with the lives of individual strangers. not yet, anyway.]
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[ He knows better though. Years of experience are behind him, assuring that there's nothing he can say that won't worry or disturb. Probably nothing he can say that will soothe, now that the seed of concern is planted--so he just tries to agree. ] Don't worry. That was enough diplomacy for me for a lifetime.
Don't worry, A-Yao.
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he lifts one hand to cradle his cheek and, smiling wistfully, says,]
Very well. I won't worry.
[as though to say 'see? you don't buy this shit either, do you?' but he doesn't push the issue beyond that.]
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[ He knows, to some degree, that Quentin has taken much worse. But Quentin doesn't know at all how badly he needs people to react like Junpei or Jin Guangyao to his stupid moves. He'll appreciate it later. For now, he presses his mouth lightly over Jin Guangyao's stomach, eyes him from below. ]
So...what's your take? Whattayou think about all this?
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I think, [he begins softly, a bit coyly,] that Quentin-gongzi is trying to change the subject.
[pot, kettle, black, etc.]
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I think that there are too many unknowns for me to know with any certainty what the right choice is. [it is one version of the truth, unvarnished, but declawed. Jin Guangyao's eyes soften.] But I know that I would not ask someone I claim to protect to cut out his heart for me.
[not unless he felt he had no other choice. which, perhaps, is precisely the circumstance the Duchess finds herself in now. but Jin Guangyao does not care about the Duchess's heart: he cares about Quentin's.]
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You would never lose your heart. [ A kiss below Jin Guangyao's navel before he unwinds and leans back in his seat. His hands draw long against to catch Jin Guangyao's. ] But I get your point. Just...don't let anyone bully you. Once you know what you think.
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Gongzi is very kind to worry, [another soft kiss across a blue vein,] but I will be fine.
[he considers Quentin through his eyelashes.] Does gongzi have any plans for tonight? [the unspoken suggestion being: Jin Guangyao could be plans. u know, just sayin.]
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